


A Series of H/C One-Shots For All For The Game

by carefulren



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Exy, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Multi, Sickfic, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt, i mean tags will be added at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2018-12-04 01:19:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11544435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carefulren/pseuds/carefulren
Summary: These are Tumblr prompt fills! I will add to this as I fill them!





	1. Neil Downplays How Sick He's Feeling, and the Foxes Step In

Dan is the first to catch on. As the captain, she’s very perceptive. She stops mid-run down the court and slips her helmet off, taking in Neil’s seemingly slower running with narrowed eyes. But, before she has a chance to call the boy out, Kevin is on him like a bullet shooting toward a victim.

“Is this a joke to you, Neil!?” Kevin shouts, booming voice echoing across the court until all foxes are coming to a halt.

Neil rips his helmet off, piercing dangerous eyes shooting daggers toward Kevin. He opens his mouth, no doubt to fire back verbally, but Dan steps in between the two.

“Your game seems off,” Dan adds, siding with Kevin yet in a calmer manner. She studies Neil, searching for an answer behind his cold eyes. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Neil says sharply. “I’m just a little tired because of morning practices.” He tells Dan when the latter tilts her head in indication that she doesn’t believe his “nothing” of an answer. And, he’s not lying. He is tired, exhausted even. His body feels heavy, as if there’s an anchor tied to his foot that weighs his body down, and it makes running fast difficult. 

With that, his head feels as if someone is hammering nails into his skull, and every noise sounds heightened to his sensitive ears, enforcing the intense pain that leaves his vision swimming in and out of focus. His body is shifting from hot to cold in the blink of an eye, and now that he’s not running up and down court, the sweat coating his skin is leaving him feeling chilled through.

But, he’s fine. This is nothing. He’s worked through way worse in the past. He’ll manage.

“Morning practice has never bothered you before,” Kevin says, voice accusing but mixed with a tell-tale sign of confusion. He shoves past Dan until he’s only inches from Neil then leans forward until their faces are impossibly close.

“Back off,” Neil mutters under his breath in French as anger dances within his blood.

From this close, Kevin can feel an alarming heat rolling of Neil in steady waves, a heat that is in no way linked to the exertion from practice. “You’ve got a fever,” he spits back in French.

Neil takes a step back just as Kevin spins around to address the team.

“He’s sick.”

“I’m fine,” Neil sighs.

“He’s got a fever.”

“I’m fine!” Neil shouts sharply, but his words fall on deaf years because seconds later, the Foxes are gathering around him as if he’s some kind of circus monkey.

Matt shoves past the others until he’s facing Neil, and he pushes Neil’s sweaty bangs back before sliding a palm across his forehead while Neil stares on with dangerous eyes.

“Jesus,” Matt mutters, hand dropping to his side. “You are boiling,” he adds, voice holding a strong color of worry, and his concern stretches across the team, with various members stepping forehead to sneak a feel of Neil’s apparent fever despite Neil swatting at their hands.

“How long?” Dan asks, mirroring Matt’s concern.

“I’m fine,” Neil insists, wishing more than anything for everyone to stop doting on him like clucking mother hens.

“Get off my court.”

All eyes snap toward Kevin, and Neil pushes forward, heart beginning to thump quickly against his chest.

“Kevin, I’m-”

“Get. Off. My. Court.”

When no one steps up to protest Kevin’s words, Neil knows he’s finished. At least, for now. He wordlessly shoves past the rest of the team, waving off Abby’s words of concern as he stalks off the court toward the locker room.

*****

Neil’s pouting in his dorm bed and absently scrolling through Exy plays on his laptop when the door creeps open and Dan, Matt, Allison, and Renee walk in.

“How’re you feeling?” Dan asks, but before Neil can reply, Allison steps forward.

“And don’t say any of that I’m fine’ bullshit because everyone knows you aren’t.”

“But I am,” Neil says, voice so flat and matter-of-fact that for a moment, the others consider it, but Renee steps toward him and brushes her fingers gently against his cheek, reminding herself of his worrying fever.

“You must feel terrible,” Renee says softly, face drawn together in concern. “You may need to go to the school clinic.”

“No need,” Allison says before Neil can utter a single word. “Kevin will have that covered.”

“Brace yourself,” Matt adds before leaning forward to drop a bag atop Neil’s bed. “DVDs. All of our favorites to watch when we are sick.”

“All I need is a full night’s rest, then I’ll be fine,” Neil tells the others, giving no regard to the bag of movies.

“Okay, you just keep telling yourself that,” Dan says with a sigh before turning to leave.

“Feel better!” Renee chirps out before following the others out, leaving Neil alone with a bag of DVDs and his thoughts.

*****

It’s only thirty minutes until his door is being opened once more by Nicky and Aaron, and Neil breathes out a soft groan as the two boys filter in.

“Neil, how are you feeling?”

When Neil opens his mouth to reply to Nicky, his breath catches in his throat and he turns away to cough into the crook of his elbow.

“You sound terrible!” Nicky shouts, slapping one hand to his chest.

“I’m,” Neil starts in between coughs, “fine.”

“You know that no one believes you, right?” Aaron asks, voice low.

“Why are you here?” Neil counters, tired eyes narrowing at the two boys.

“To warn you,” Nicky says, shooting Neil a sheepish smile. “Kevin’s mad.”

“When is he not?”

“You’ve got a point, but he’s extra mad right now.”

“I can handle him,” Neil says, frowning at how slightly hoarse his voice sounds. “Is that all?”

“Yep,” Aaron says, popping the ‘p’ as he turns to leave.

“Feel better, and if Kevin tries to toss you in an ice bath, just call me, okay?” Nicky says, failing to mask the worry and sympathy that spread across his face, before he leaves the room.

*****

“Wake the hell up.”

Neil jerks into a sitting position, lingering remnants of his fevered nightmare breaking away as Kevin’s face comes into view. He turns and coughs harshly into the crook of his elbow, and when he turns back after he catches his breath, Kevin is shoving a thermometer into his mouth.

“Kevin-”

“Shut up.” Kevin spits out sharply before turning to rustle in the shopping bag he brought in, pulling out waters, pill bottles, and a few cloths.

When the device beeps, Kevin spins around quickly and snatches the thermometer from Neil’s mouth before Neil can even lift a hand. He stares down at the blinking “103.4” degrees with a deep frown. He shows Neil, eyes narrow and accusing, and Neil lets out a light huff.

“I’ve had worse,” Neil says while coughing weakly into his fist.

“Well this isn’t about the past,” Kevin fires back, voice low and dangerous. “It’s about now. It’s about Exy.”

“I could have finished practice.”

“And pass out and end up in a hospital which would prolong this entire process?” Kevin questions while twisting open the pill bottle and pouring a couple of pills into his palm. He passes them to Neil, who wordlessly accepts them.

“It’s really not that bad,” Neil tells Kevin before dropping the pills into his mouth and taking the opened water Kevin offers him.

“103.4 degrees is no joke,” Kevin says with a loud sigh. “You need to take care of your health, Neil. Your health comes first.”

Neil quirks an eyebrow. “I thought Exy came first.”

“Shut up,” Kevin tells him before shoving hard against his shoulder. “Now lie down. I’ll be right back.”

Neil drops against the pillow with a weak cough. He allows his eyes to flutter closed, only to pry them back open when Kevin walks back into the room with a damp wash cloth in hand.

Kevin drapes the damp cloth across Neil’s forehead, and Neil won’t admit it out loud, but it feels heavenly against his burning forehead.

“I’ll come back in a few hours to check your temperature, and then we can start pumping you with vitamin C,” Kevin says as he takes bottles of orange juice out of the bag and sets them on the bedside table.

“Can we just do all that minus the you coming back part?” Neil asks, and Kevin huffs.

“Shut up and go to sleep, Josten,” Kevin spits out before storming out of the room and slamming the door.

Neil’s eyes linger on the door for a moment before they slide closed.

*****

Neil wakes only forty minutes later to a smell that’s familiar yet not very common. He pushes up on his elbows, blinking against his dark surroundings until his eyes adjust. And, it’s then that he catches sight of a blanket draped over him that he doesn’t recognize.

He smooths his hands across the rough fabric before pulling it up to his face and taking in a deep breath.

Cigarette smoke.

Neil lets the blanket slips from his fingers.

It smells of cigarette smoke and Andrew.


	2. Neil Almost Collapsing After A Game

“Tell me that you are well enough to play.” 

Neil reluctantly drags his gaze away from the court to meet Wymack’s stern look, and he offers one, curt nod, knowing full and well that any verbal response won’t end in his favor thanks to the rasp that’s clinging to his tone.

Neil can see the hesitance coloring Wymack’s narrowed eyes and opts to risk his hoarse voice to further emphasize that he can do this. “I can play,” he says, tone pushing past the rasp to come off as eager and confident. He bounces on the balls of his feet, gaze darting from the Wymack, to the court, then back to his coach.

“Don’t make me regret sending you out there,” Wymack says just as he nods toward Dan to lead his team out onto the court. 

Neil offers one final nod right before he steps out onto the court. He eyes the large, orange paw print painted on the floor as pride swells within his chest, and he moves to his starting position as he mentally shoves his ailments into the far back of his mind.

*****

Neil stares through bleary vision at the scoreboard. He knows they won by an impressive amount thanks to his and Kevin’s shots paired with Andrew guarding their goal harder than he’s ever guarded it, but the numbers are wavering in and out of focus, like a camera lens being pushed forward and backward in a desperate attempt to get a clear shot.

He blinks to clear his vision, but each rise and fall of his eyelids yields a faint darkness creeping at the edge of his vision that grows and grows until his knees buckle under the weight of the darkness. He’s falling before he has a chance suck in a sharp breath, but he never hits the ground.

A strong hand latches onto his arm and yanks him to his feet before he can crumble onto the court floor, and he doesn’t have to look up to know it’s Andrew. The latter is silent as he pulls Neil off the court, and Neil stumbles after him as the two bypass their team and the press to get back to the locker room.

“Sit,” Andrew hisses out before shoving Neil onto a bench and crouching in front of him to start ripping off the gear piece by piece. 

Behind the two, the rest of the team files in. Kevin shoves past the others until he’s dropping hard on the bench beside Neil. His face is pinched and tight, borderline unreadable to Neil’s tired eyes, and he presses one hand to Neil’s flushed cheek before jerking it away with a sharp gasp.

“You are an idiot,” he spits out as he gets to his feet and disappears to his locker. 

“I’m fine,” Neil mutters just as Andrew wraps a hand around the back of his neck and jerks his face forward until their foreheads are touching. It’s closer than Andrew has ever dared put the two in the team’s public eye, but Neil doesn’t even think about pulling away until Kevin returns with a thermometer in hand. 

“You carry that with you?” Neil asks with an arched brow, but Kevin ignores the question in favor of shoving the thermometer in Neil’s mouth. 

“Talk, and I’ll kick your ass,” Kevin warns when Neil opens his mouth to speak around the device. 

The rest of the team gathers around and waits with bated breath until after an endless minute, the thermometer beeps. Andrew is just a fraction of a second faster than Kevin when the two reach for the instrument, and he stares hard at the 102.6 degrees reading before passing the thermometer to Kevin without a word.

Neil tries to sneak a glance at the reading, but Andrew’s suddenly tense body beside him as him falling impossibly still until Kevin spits out a string of curses.

“102.6, Neil? You call that fine?” 

“Jesus, Neil. You shouldn’t have played.” Dan says, voice a faint mixture of worry and anger as she crosses her arms and shoots a studying gaze toward Neil. 

“You said you were well enough,” Wymack growls out just as Abby shoves past the players to get to Neil. 

Neil doesn’t meet her worried gaze as she feels his forehead and checks his pulse. Instead, he offers a shrug and waves one hand about absently to dismiss the varying looks of concern.

“I’m fine,” he tells the others, but before they can argue against his small statement, he continues, “I’ve had worse.” 

“Neil, that doesn’t-” 

“It’s fine,” Neil interrupts Nicky with a low voice. “I’ve adapted to work through fevers. I can usually go until it gets to around 105 degrees.” 

The room falls silent; it’s almost as if no member of the team is even breathing. Neil drops his gaze to his hands, but before he can wonder if he shouldn’t have shared that small bout of honesty, Andrew is once again jerking him to his feet and pulling him out of the locker room.

“We’re leaving. We will get our things tomorrow,” is all Andrew offers the others before he pulls Neil out into the cold, November air and toward his car. 

Neil briefly considers fighting against Andrew; he doesn’t want to leave his gear littering the locker room floor, but Andrew’s grip is tight enough to bruise his wrist. He’s learned enough of Andrew’s quirks now to know that Andrew’s seeming aggression is a clear sign of concern, so Neil opts, instead, to put his complete trust into Andrew just as he’s being shoved into the passenger seat of Andrew’s car.

“Are you mad?” Neil asks, rough voice holding a slight hint of teasing as Andrew jabs his key into the ignition and peels out of the parking lot.

“Shut up before I push you out of this car.”


	3. Andrew Sick with the Flu ft. Fever Dreams and Caretaker Neil

“He’s hopeless!” 

Neil frowns as Kevin exits Andrew’s bedroom with a loud slam of the door. There’s a bright red mark coloring Kevin’s cheek, and Neil tilts his head in silent question.

“He threw a fucking shoe at me.” 

Despite Kevin’s piercing tone, Neil can’t help the quiet huff of a laugh that creeps up, and he only finds it all the more amusing when Kevin shoots curses at him in response. Neil drops back against the counter and crosses his arm as his gaze follows Kevin’s sudden pacing.

“He needs help,” Kevin mutters while he walks a hole in the floor as he crosses back and forth the width of the room, each step stomping louder than the last. 

“It’s just the flu,” Neil counters, arching both brows when Kevin grinds to a halt and shoots a sharp gaze toward him. 

“Your inability to take illness seriously gets on my last fucking nerve,” Kevin spits out before sparing a glance toward the closed door with an expression Neil has trouble reading. “The flu can be dangerous.” 

“What are you really thinking about?” Neil questions as he walks toward Kevin and follows the latter’s gaze toward the door. 

A low sigh has Neil directing his gaze toward Kevin just as the latter rakes trembling fingers through his hair. “Kevin,” Neil presses as a brief spark of fear lights within his chest.

“The nightmares,” Kevin says, voice lost and almost distant as he drags his gaze from Neil’s face back to the closed door. “They can get violent.” 

“Nightmares about-”

“Yes,” Kevin answers all too quickly. “He shouldn’t be alone for them.” 

“Well, if he won’t let anyone in-” 

“He will let you in.” 

Neil shifts until he can fully face Kevin, and he narrows his eyes, studying Kevin for an answer written across Kevin’s worried features. “Why do you say that?”

Shrugging, Kevin gives Neil a once over before turning toward the door. “Well, you two fuck, so-”

“Kevin!” 

Kevin glances over his shoulder. “You can’t deny it. Everyone already knows.” He turns back toward the door. “I’m going to get some medicine. Deal with Andrew.”

Neil watches as the door closes before pinching at the bridge of his nose in a poor attempt to halt a migraine before it starts. He’s got the safety of the hallway to his left and a potential shoe to his face to the right. The clear answer is there, and Neil ignores it in favor of walking toward Andrew’s door.

He foregoes knocking and eases the door open with tense shoulders. His eyes are squeezed shut as he braces for a shoe to the face, but after four seconds, nothing happens. Slowly, he opens his eyes to see Andrew half sitting up with a shoe raised. He wants to say something about this, but his words fall lost against a sharp gasp as he takes in Andrew’s poor features.

Andrew’s cheeks are painted a deep red that stands out harshly against his pale complexion. He’s slick with sweat, yet he’s trembling hard, and Neil takes one step forward, driven by concern alone, but stops when Andrew shakes his head sharply just as the shoe clatters to the floor.

“Stay there,” Andrew rasps out before falling into a coughing fit that has Neil wincing from his place. Each cough sounds deep and painful and very much not normal, and Neil risks a hesitant step forward but jerks to a halt when Andrew drags a bleary gaze toward him. 

“Your disobedience is annoying,” Andrew manages out as he falls back against his pillow when the coughing tampers off. He drapes one arm over his eyes with a few weak coughs. “What do you want?” 

“To help,” Neil replies slowly. He feels as if he’s treading dangerous waters, but there’s no way in hell he’s leaving after that fit. 

“You can help by leaving.” 

Neil remains silent and glued to his spot, and after a few moments, Andrew lifts his arm and stares daggers at Neil.

“You’re not leaving.” 

“No,” Neil spits back with concern woven within his harsh tone. 

“You’re just going to stay there.” 

It’s not a question, but Neil treats it as such. “If I have to, yes.” He matches Andrew’s piercing gaze with one of his own, and finally, Andrew drops his arm back across his eyes with a low sigh that morphs into a few harsh coughs.

“That’s as close as you can get.” 

Neil glances at the floor and trails his gaze along the carpet until he reaches Andrew. He can do nothing at this distance except watch over Andrew to make sure the latter doesn’t keel over. He’s already feeling useless and angry, but his worry for Andrew takes center hold. He slowly moves until he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor and trains his eyes on Andrew.

*****

For three hours, Neil stays in his spot on the floor and watches Andrew sleep, while only taking one brief break to run to the bathroom and take the medicine Kevin bought.

He’s frustrated, and his body is growing sore from his seat on the floor, but he doesn’t dare risk leaving Andrew for more than two minutes. If Kevin was right about the nightmares-

All thoughts grind to a halt when Neil hears a strangled gasp from the bed. He shoots to his feet and leans forward to look as closely as possible. Andrew’s body is tensing and jerking about, and even from this distance, Neil can see his eyes dancing wildly against closed lids.

“Andrew,” Neil tries calling out, but his words fall against deaf ears. He contemplates waiting it out; every nightmare has to come to an end right? But, when Andrew starts dragging sharp nails hard enough along his arms to draw blood, Neil shoots forward and grabs at Andrew’s arm to keep the latter from causing anymore harm. 

“Andrew,” Neil hisses out as Andrew tries to twist away from his grip. Neil can feel the heat of the fever clinging to Andrew’s skin, and he tightens his grip. “Andrew,” he presses, voice sharp and unyielding, and just a moment later, he’s releasing Andrew’s arm in favor or darting to the side just as Andrew’s fist shoots toward his face. 

It’s close, but Neil’s reflexes have always been strong, so he’s able to watch the fist without being hit with it.  Moments later, Andrew is jerking into a sitting position and leaning far over the bed to wrap slender fingers around Neil’s neck.

“You aren’t where you’re supposed to be.” 

“I’m not,” Neil agrees as be brings one hand up to wrap around Andrew’s wrist. “You were having a nightmare.” He slides his hand down to the scratch marks littering Andrew’s arm. “You were hurting yourself.” 

“Neil Josten. Always trying to be the hero.” 

Neil takes a step forward just as Andrew’s hold on his neck tightens. “I moved past the spot, and we both are still here, so let me take care of you.”

“No.” 

Despite this, Andrew releases his tight hold on Neil’s neck, and Neil cups a hand to Andrew’s cheek to gauge the fever by touch alone.

“Kevin bought medicine.” 

“I won’t take any.” 

Neil ignores this as he turns away to rifle through the medicine bag. “Do you prefer cherry or grape flavor cough syrup?” He asks, craning his neck over his shoulder to meet Andrew’s narrow gaze.

“I hate you.”


	4. sick and problematic kevin trying to keep the team away from him, but the team ignores him

“Why are we here?” Dan asks as she lazily laces her fingers with Matt’s. Wymack had called all of the Foxes to the stadium for a meeting, and all arrived wondering why they’ve been interrupted from their day off. 

“We need to talk about Kevin.” 

A few eyes shift toward Andrew, but he ignores them in favor of staring at a small hole on the back of Neil’s shirt just as Neil leans forward and props his elbows atop his knees.

“What about Kevin?” 

“He’s sick.” 

Neil’s face remains dismissive as he silently waits for Wymack to elaborate further.

“He’s holed himself away in  _my_  bathroom in  _my_  apartment and won’t come out until he’s better.” 

Neil still isn’t picking up on what’s going on, and really wishes Wymack would stop dancing around the issue, but he’s not the only one who is growing irritated with the borderline cryptic words.

“What the fuck is your point?” Allison snaps, looking up from her nails to stare daggers at Wymack, but before Wymack can answer, Andrew chimes in, as bored yet present as ever. 

“He wants us to take care of Kevin.” 

Neil glances back at Andrew before shifting a narrow gaze back toward Wymack. “He won’t let us.”

Wymack shrugs and starts toward the door. “Don’t care. Figure something out, and get him the hell out of my apartment.”

The door slamming has the other Foxes groaning, and when Neil finally looks away from the large door, all eyes are on him. His first response is to shy away from the stares, but Andrew’s hand finds the back of his neck, forcing him to address the team. “What?” He grumbles out.

“What’s the plan?” Matt asks, and Neil’s initial reaction is to shrug because why would he have a plan dealing with Kevin while sick, but Andrew’s hand tightens around the back of his neck, and he breathes out a low sigh. 

“Let’s go buy some medicine and head over.” 

*****

It doesn’t take long until all of the Foxes are crowded around the bathroom door in Wymack’s apartment. Neil steps forward and raps his knuckles against the door. There’s a muffled “go away” that filters out from the gap at the bottom of the door, and Neil knocks harder. “Open the door, Kevin.”

Kevin’s voice is sharper and more prominent. “No, go away, Neil. You of all people do not need to catch this.”

Neil raises both brows. “Are you saying that I’m that good?”

“Fuck off, Josten.” 

Neil swaps to French in an instance. “Kevin, seriously. You sound like shit. Let us help you.”

“Us?” Kevin rasps back in French. 

“The whole team is here.” Neil waits at the silence for a moment, but when it becomes clear Kevin isn’t going to answer the door, he tries again, voice sharp and quick and still in French. “Have you thrown up? Do you have a fever? Are you just sleeping on the bathroom floor?”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” Kevin replies weakly, and Neil curses under his breath. 

“What’s your temperature?” 

“Wymack doesn’t have a thermometer.” 

Neil glances down at the small drug store bag in his hand. Dan had made the call to buy a thermometer just in case, and Neil is silently grateful for her quick thinking. “We have one. Let me in.”

“Send Nicky.” 

Neil groans and glances behind him to eye Nicky. “He wants me to send you in to check how bad his fever is.”

“Why me?” Nicky asks, and Kevin’s muffled French reply of “his absence on the court won’t make much of a difference” has Neil kicking the bathroom door sternly before handing the bag to Nicky. 

“Just go,” Neil says before stepping out of the way to let Nicky toward the door. 

Nicky is hesitant as he knocks on the door. “Kevin? It’s me.” There’s a faint shuffling sound followed by the small click of a lock. Kevin opens the door just enough to grab Nicky’s arm with impressive strength and jerk him in before slamming the door before Neil can stop it with his shoe.

For two minutes, all of the Foxes keep silent as they strain to listen to the muffled talking from behind the closed door. They all hear a small beeping sound followed by a loud curse, and seconds later, Nicky is easing himself out of the bathroom with a thermometer in hand. He wordlessly hands it to Neil, and Neil takes in the 103.2 degree reading before storming back to the bathroom door.

He tries the handle, but Kevin must’ve locked it behind Nicky. Leaning as close to the door as possible, he growls, “Kevin open this door, or I’ll kick it down.”

“Wymack will kill you.” 

“I’ll pay for the damage,” Neil replies, voice tired and so over Kevin’s stupidity. “Three seconds, Kevin.” 

“You won’t.” 

“One,” Neil starts, already shaking his leg out as he studies the workings of the door to determine the best place to slam his foot. 

“Neil-”

“Two,” Neil interrupts, and he’s sucking in a breath to say “three” when the door pulls open, revealing a very unsteady Kevin, who has to grip at the door frame to keep himself upright. 

“I hate you,” Kevin growls, but Neil only silently takes in Kevin’s appearance. Kevin’s pale, and his skin is slick with sweat. His cheeks are colored a deep red, and his entire body is trembling, whether that be from exertion or chills, Neil isn’t sure. 

“When you all get sick and we can’t play Friday, you can blame Neil,” Kevin mutters, but his harsh words fall against deaf ears for Neil’s already turned around and barking orders to the other Foxes. 

“Andrew, go pull your car as close as you can to the entrance. I want the rest of you riding back with Matt or Allison to avoid contagion. Stop at the store and pick up as much orange juice as you can then get the couch in Kevin’s dorm set up. We’ll meet you guys there.” 

To his surprise, everyone obeys, even Andrew wordlessly stalks off to pull his car around toward the entrance. With that finished, Neil glances back to see Kevin eyeing the toilet nervously. “Are you going to throw up?”

“Maybe,” Kevin admits, and Neil waves a dismissive hand before pulling his phone out to tell Wymack he’s got it handled. Seconds later, he’s glancing with a disgusted look as Kevin heaves into the toilet. 

*****

“This is unnecessary,” Kevin grumbles from his spot bundled up on the couch, but no one pays him any attention as they dart about the room, only talking to one another. He grabs at Neil’s shirt just as the latter walks by. “Neil,” he growls out before swapping to French. “The entire team is going to get sick.” 

“No, we won’t,” Neil replies back in French before swatting Kevin’s hand away. “Stop being so dramatic,” he tells Kevin, voice sharp yet tired, and Kevin shoves up on his elbows at this. 

“Why are you doing this? Don’t you care about whether or not we win or lose?” 

Neil tenses at the words and slides a dangerous gaze toward Kevin. He swaps to English, feeling that his next words are something the whole team should hear. “Is it so hard to think that we are doing this because we care about you and are worried about you?”

Before Kevin can reply, Dan is coming forward and flicking Kevin right in the forehead. “For once in your life, shut the fuck up and let us take care of you.” There are varying hums of agreement that follow her words, and she stalks off with a sharp smile as she goes back to making the soup she and Renee are working on.

“We aren’t the Ravens,” Neil mutters in French just as Kevin drops back against the couch and drapes an arm across his eyes. 

“No, you guys are way more stupid,” Kevin answers back, yet, there’s no bite to his tone, only a hidden fondness that Neil picks up on with a faint smile. 

**Author's Note:**

> i'll go back and fix grammar errors eventually


End file.
